Dreams and Nightmares
by miss lizz
Summary: Chapter 11 is here! Scarab discovers a new spell and it marks trouble for everyone. Please R&R.
1. Default Chapter

Dreams & Nightmares

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R for disturbing scenes

Disclaimer: I don't own the mummies or any related characters but you should know that.

Author's Note:  This is a story taking a different view on Scarab's quest and the near untouched upon burgeoning romance between Jakal and Nefertina and how a horror visited on them affects the two.  Contained in this are scenes of disturbing acts, blood loss, language, and other things some readers may not be comfortable reading.

Viewer discretion is advised.

            Mad laughter echoed through the pyramid, Scarab was pouring over an ancient tome, devouring it with his eyes.  It was brilliance, sheer brilliance, and it was not even Egyptian.  Why had **he** not thought of this?  He felt like dancing for joy but had to stop when that bloody crick in his back acted up again, causing him a large amount of pain.  Damn these old bones.

            He started laughing again.  These bones wouldn't be old and stiff much longer…  By the end of the night, he would be a whole new person.

            With the excitement of a child at Christmas, the ancient sorcerer told Heka his latest scheme to be young again and waited for a reaction from the gold cobra.  She blinked.  The thin old man grumbled darkly at her and stalked out of the room.  He would do this on his own if need be.  

            Later that night, once some loose ends were taken care of and all materials were gathered, Scarab stood atop the glass pyramid.  A strong wind had picked up, rolling in ominous, black thunderheads and making his cloak billow; it was the perfect setting for what was to come.  Lightning crackled insanely across the sky and thunder exploded through the thick air; he could smell rain.  It was melodramatic, and even a bit clichéd but it was perfect.  One of his dreams was coming to fruition.

            Even the four elemental stones were in his control and in their cardinal places around him:

            Fire to the South.

            Water to the North.

            Air to the East.

            Earth to the West.

            In the center stood a brazier alight in iridescent flame from the power of the elements.  Scarab stood resolutely beside it, showing no fear or trepidation in face of the forces he dealt with.  He tossed pellets of frankincense into the 'fire' and waited a moment before a strip of cloth scrawled with a spell containing the name of the intended vessel written in his own blood was also thrown into the pyre.  Lightning again exploded across the sky, split directly over the brazier and hit each of the stones in a blinding flash.  For a moment, it appeared as though nothing happened, that moment ended quickly when the stones lit up and enveloped Scarab in beams of power and crackling energy.  His soul and mind fled his body in a flash of light amid silence.  

            It went with a purpose over the city.

            With the spell completed, Scarab's lifeless husk of a body fell and turned to dust.

            A loud, colourful curse erupted from an exasperated royal scribe as the Hot-Ra belched foul-smelling, acrid, black smoke and spat oil into his face.  Rath had been cursing much this night.  Eventually, he gave up with a promise to force a certain charioteer to fix her own disasters.  How dare the little imp automatically expect him to fix everything she destroys every time it happens!  He spent more time up to his elbows in machines than he did in his beloved scrolls thanks to her.  How dare the girl run off afterwards and leave him here!  It might be fun to turn her into something that can't cause trouble for a day or month or so…

            The hood suddenly fell on him with a dull thud.

            He struggled and cursed to no avail for several seconds before Jakal came and lifted the hood back up with a chuckle.  Rath failed to see the levity in the situation and glared at the hunter.  For all his famous discipline, the man was much too lax in the area of the young charioteer, in Rath's opinion.

            "Have you seen Nefertina?  She took the prince home hours ago and hasn't come back yet."  He asked in all seriousness.

            Rath straightened his hat and 'harrumphed,' "She probably went to one of those dance halls she frequents.  This work can wait until she decides to show her face.  This time, it will be she who fixes her own disaster.  Good night, Jakal."

            The thin man left the garage, wiping the worst of the oil and grease off of him before he could wash and gave no more thought to the conversation or the vehicle disaster behind him.  It was near midnight and he was exhausted.

            Jakal did not so easily forget.  A deep feeling of dread was twisting in his gut, making him break out in a cold sweat.  The dull boom of thunder echoed overhead outside, further fueling his need to find the wayward charioteer and make sure she was safe.  Evil was traveling the winds tonight; he could feel it in his soul.  Something bad was going to happen.

            He had to find her.  

            With a firm decision in mind, he hurried outside where the air was thickening into the dense blackness of a powerful storm.  He transformed, it would be easier and faster to search from the air.  If only he knew where she had gone…

            _Please, Ra, keep her safe._

            Young and timeless gray eyes stared up at stars that were quickly being covered by ominous black clouds that cast its shroud over everything.  Strange.  The weather master in the magic box never said a thing about rain.  Those clouds did not look nice at all.  

            She sighed; it figured even the weather left her no room for solitude.  Sometimes she would spend hours atop this bluff overlooking the stormy Pacific but apparently not tonight.  The white-haired girl got to her feet and shoved a stray bit of hair from her eyes.  It might be easy to lose track of time here but she should head back before it rained and she became drenched.  That's just what she needed, another thing to yelled at for.  Maybe they'd all be asleep when she got home and won't have to listen to their harsh, hurtful words.

            Nefertina was walking back to the jetcycle when she felt the sudden urge to look heavenward.  Something that looked like a shooting star was blazing across the sky, but as it got closer, it turned out to be a crackling ball of energy instead of a star.  It hit her hard in the chest, slamming her into the ground on her back.  Of a sudden, horrific pain exploded and grew deep inside of her…

End ch. 1

Sorry about the hanging ending.  Is this worth another chapter?  Please tell me.

Thank you,

Miss Lizz


	2. pain

Dreams & Nightmares

Ch 2: Birthing Evil

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R for disturbingly graphic scenes, language, and blood loss

Disclaimer: The characters of Mummies Alive! are properties of DIC, I think.

Note: This story contains which may not be suitable for all audiences.  Viewer discretion is advised.  I'm taking no chances in rating confusion.

            She cried out in agony, wanting to pull her knees up to her chest and curl into a ball; the pain was so great she screamed.  Her belly began to expand at a frightening rate and something moved deep inside her.  She gave a shriek of terror, pain, and panic; tears welled in her frightened gray eyes turning them silver and she screamed so loudly they surely heard her in the city.  As her normally toned abdomen continued to grow and stretch, the thing inside her felt like it was tearing her apart.  

            _Gods, what's happening to me!?_

            It hurt.  It hurt worse than anything she had ever felt before.  An abominable pressure built up in her lower body, so great it caused an agonizing amount of torture to her already quickening body.  Fluid gushed from her, thunder and lightning exploded overhead, and she screamed again as the pressure became true pain.  It felt like something was pushing her from the inside to the out.  There was still more pain as bands of muscle she wasn't aware existed began to contract and more fluid gushed from between her legs and that terrible pressure multiplied a hundredfold.  What was happening?  Why was this happening to her?

            By this time she was sobbing, begging every god and goddess she could name to end this torture by whatever means necessary.  She no longer cared how this thing ended she just wanted it ended.  Now.

            Those muscle bands were squeezing almost non-stop and she could feel that something that before had moved within her moving again only now it fought to get out.  When another build-up of pressure made her double up as much as she could, she screamed.  And the scream that tore itself from her throat echoed off the cliff and overwhelmed even the pounding surf far below.

            All the pressure that had been so painful suddenly ended but the separate aching did not, the fear stayed, the terror of what she had just gone through stayed, the panic stayed.  She wanted to crawl under a rock and die, feeling weak, helpless, everything she was not supposed to be.  She felt so ashamed.

            Another boom of thunder crashed overhead, bringing with it torrential rain and brilliant flashes of lightning.  Nefertina sobbed harder than she ever had before in a mixture of fear and pain and tried to crawl away, back to the jetcycle.  Her legs felt like jelly and refused to hold her upright or even let her kneel.  It still hurt unlike anything she had ever felt before, worse because this was a dull, unrelenting ache that throbbed with every breath she took.  What was wrong with her?

            "Where do you think you're going?"

            Someone suddenly stood over her in the darkness.  He was tall, young, and undeniably familiar when he spoke.

            "Scarab… What did you do to me!?" Her voice cracked amongst her cries, edged with panic.  She no longer cared if her overpowering fear was clearly evident in her expression and voice and the way she cowered.

            "I used you," he began with casual ease, moving with a grace he never had before, "to give myself life.  Now, I feel I must thank you; you've after all given me many decades in order to ultimately gain immortality.  But I wonder just how much more you can give."

            The newly young Scarab advanced towards her, the frequent lightning creating sinister and revealing highlights on his face, thick crop of hair, and lithe, sinewy body.  She cringed, trying to scramble away from what she was sure was going to be a horrible end but her arms and legs felt weighted down with lead.  The young sorcerer knelt next to her and managed to keep her at bay with but a single hand.  He gingerly traced a tapered finger along her cheekbone, her trembling chin, down her neck, to the place where her amulet rested heavily between her breasts.  Clasping the cat-headed symbol of power in his hand, he began draining whatever was left of her energy.  

            "You really are a lovely creature, Nefertina, it's almost a pity I have to do this…" He said in a low voice that chilled her more than anything else he could have said.

            Would anyone miss her?  She thought vaguely as blackness started to descend over her like a shroud when an angel with golden wings swooped in like an arrow.

End ch 2.

I know, it wasn't very long, I'm sorry but I felt it gave it more power.  The next chapter will be up as soon as I can put it down.

Please send lots of reviews.

Thank you.


	3. Dr French

Dreams & Nightmares

Chapter 3

Rating: R for disturbing scenes

Disclaimer: This should be fairly obvious…

            "Nefertina!" The scream whipped toward the two struggling figures on the ground with the same wind that brought a winged salvation.

            Scarab whipped his head to the sound and an ugly snarl contorted his now smooth features that smoothed again immediately when he gazed back down at her with a dark smile.  "I shall be sure to finish this later, my dear," he purred in an oily voice as he trailed a fingertip down her cheek.  He froze her blood with his words and made her shudder in fear and dread.

            Then he vanished, simply vanished.  No light, no sound, no clichéd glimmer of stardust, he just winked out like a candle that was suddenly snuffed by the wind.

            She couldn't move she was so weak and in so much pain and her bitter tears raged in a floodtide down her ashen face as anguished sobs she could no longer control tore from her raw throat.  There was little she could do when the sound of steady wings grew closer and she felt more than heard her angel land beside her.  She didn't want him to see her so weak; it shamed her that he did.  Nefertina fell into blackness with the thought that he already _did_ think her weak.

            He didn't like this.  She should not be so still, not her, not the girl who was nearly irrepressible in her energy and love of life.  Who else had been here with her just now?  Had he imagined it?  He couldn't have, else she would not be laying here in this state.  

            "Nefertina?"

            A touch at her shoulder brought no response.  She was unconscious then, but why?  What had happened?  Who did this to her?

            She shuddered violently and drew in a breath like a sob when he drew back from her to take a closer look for injuries.  Without thought, the hunter gathered her into his arms and tried to ease her trembling, thinking it was caused by chill until he heard her moan softly.  She's in pain?

            "Nef… I'll get you help…" He whispered near her ear before he caught the unmistakable scent of blood and he felt something too warm to be rain where his arm looped under her thighs.  "Hn?"  Jakal held his hand up and gasped at the sight of blood, her blood, running down his forearm.  "Oh gods…" he whispered in a soft, uncharacteristically worried tone, no hint of the calm authority he was known for.

            This scared him, scared him mightily.  He had never seen her so weak, and the blood, it frightened him to see her bleed.  Much more than it ever had when she was 'Nefer.'

            He had to get her help, he promised her he would.  She wouldn't want Rath to see her, not if she was bleeding from where he fearfully suspected she was.  It needed to be another woman, one whom she trusted.  There was only one that he knew of.  He prayed the woman would understand his showing up after midnight.

            His mind set on its course, Jakal lifted Nefertina, holding her close to him, and unfurled his golden wings to take to the skies, which roiled and writhed with dark rain and booming thunder and crashing lightning.

            Doctor Geraldine French ran a family clinic from her home after she retired from the hectic, migraine-inducing world of hospital work to go into a private practice and teach.  She was a tall, thin, stern-looking British-woman in her late fifties that many would call matronly handsome of Amazonian standards, but she was kind.  The elder woman was once the pediatrician of the Carnovans and was now a family friend.  She had accidentally been introduced to those mummies the Carnovan boy hangs out with when they had all showed up on her doorstep.  

            Still half-asleep at two in the morning, she was reminded of that night by the insistent knocking on her front door.  It had to be the worst thunderstorm in recent history, the rain battering against the roof and windows, lightning sounding as if to rend the sky.

            The sight that greeted her when she yawning opened her door startled her into full waking.  She would have never dreamed of seeing a fully armoured Jakal carrying an unconscious Nefertina standing soaked on her doorstep in the pouring rain.  It was the look in the strong hunter's eyes that startled her the most however.  She had never seen him look so frightened.

            "Please, Dr. French, she's bleeding… I― she― can you please help her?" His strong voice faltered and died off as he struggled with emotions foreign to him.

            "I can't if you just stand there, come in.  Come in," she stepped out of the way to allow him entrance. "Please, take her into that first room, I'll be there shortly."

            She went to wash up and pull on a housecoat and to get her glasses so she could see what she was doing.  When she returned to them, it was to find that Jakal had not left the girl's side though he had placed her on the table and recalled his armour.  He was waiting tensely for her to arrive.

            Dr. French sighed deciding there could be no way the girl would want him in here while she was being examined and that he probably not want to see the examination.  He would not be happy about getting kicked out, especially if he was in a protective mood.

            "Please wait out in the living room.  And do try not to argue."

            The hunter's mouth clicked shut, stifling the argument he was undoubtedly going to make and he nodded, meekly leaving the two women alone.  It surprised her that he was so cooperative.

            Nefertina was unconscious, remaining that way throughout the exam she was put through, staunching the flow of blood and even requiring stitches.  What had done this to her?  There were few possibilities and all of them grizzly.  Rape had been the first thing she had thought of, it was the most heinous crime that could have been committed and she shuddered at the mere thought of such a thing.  The terrible possibility of it was quickly discounted during the pelvic examination when she found no bruising and no semen on the girl.  But something horrible _had_ happened, of that there was no question.  What was it though?

            The older woman leaned over her when she noticed the small charioteer's eyes flickering as if to open.  Her storm-gray eyes had transformed to glittering silver with the promise of unspent tears, fear, and pain.  She was also confused as her eyes began to focus on her surroundings.

            "Nefertina?  Dear, can you tell me what happened?"

            Large, frightened, silver eyes looked up at her.  "D-Dr. French?"  Her voice was much smaller than it normally was, barely a whisper, "What― h-h-how did I get here?"

            "Jakal brought you," the girl squeezed her eyes shut and moaned dejectedly, clearly upset by the news, "Don't worry, I made him wait in another room.  He hasn't seen anything; he doesn't know what's happening.  I don't believe he does anyway… I need to know what happened to you in case there's anything else I can do.  Can you tell me?"

            She didn't want to.  She tried not to, avoiding it as long as she could, hesitating endlessly until she finally told everything that had happened tonight, from taking the prince home, to driving to the cliff on the ocean, and on to the nightmare with Scarab.  It had shaken her into a frightened, shaking wreak of her former self.  

            By the end, Dr. French's face was drawn and flushed with bright outrage.  It wasn't technically rape but it nearly the same thing in her mind.  That monster had really overstepped the bound this night, using an innocent girl to become younger.  It was the most disgusting thing she'd heard of him doing.  Jakal must not suspect anything, must not know, or he would not still be in her living room; he would be hunting down the bastard and tearing him limb from misbegotten limb.  She hoped he did.

            "The others will have to be told this.  You―"

            "NO!  Please, don't tell them.  Don't make me tell them what happened.  Please," Nefertina was begging, close to blubbering, frightened they would somehow blame her for it all, that they would think her even weaker that before.  She especially did not want Jakal to know.  She was even more frightened of what he would say or think.  

            "He won't think you weak or inept or any of the things you believe he will.  He has too much respect for you to do that and he cares too much about you― yes he does, dear, no matter what you may say.  He needs to be told.  Once he finishes worrying to death and pacing a trench in my carpet, he'll want to go after Scarab.  Can't say as I blame him for that… Now, I've done everything I can for you," she patted the girl's hand comfortingly, "but perhaps Rath could better undo the physical damage with a spell since it was magic that caused this."  Her face regained its paniced expression at the thought of telling the others and Dr. French was quick to reassure her.  "Don't get upset or distraught, no one in their right mind could blame you for what Scarab did―"

            "They will."  She said quietly.

            The physician sighed; the three she lived with must either ignore her or constantly berate her for every little thing she did or didn't do for her to so adamantly believe they all barely tolerated her.  She needed support now.  Strong emotional support or she would never fully recover.  If she didn't receive it from them, there was no one else she could get it from that she was around with any regularity.

            "They won't but it's no use arguing with you… I'm going to fetch Jakal so he can take you home.  Calm down now," she began seeing the fear crash back in, "I won't tell him anything that happened here.  You should be the one to do that."

            Jakal nearly pounced on her when she came out of the room, the look of impatient worry appearing so out of place on his normally stoic features, his eyes holding a naked fear she had never seen in their depths before.

            "How is she?"  It held an urgency that was hard to mistake, bespeaking of a deeper caring than he would admit to.

            Geraldine backed up a step.  "Not exactly fine but she'll survive.  When you rush in, go gently with her, she's been through hell," _and has yet to return from it,_ she added silently, "and do not press her too harshly this time."

            His gaze had been resting imploringly on the closed door behind her but it then snapped to her face and darkened considerably, his ire rising noticeably, "What are you talking about 'this time?' I've never done such a thing to her, nor would I ever."

            He swept past her indignantly.  She had managed to anger him when that was the last thing they needed.  If he turned that anger to Nefertina, meaning to or not, the girl would collapse in on herself and hide behind wall of stubbornness.  And he would continue questioning and prodding her for answers because of his own proclivity towards stubbornness.

            _Lord those willful fools are a perfect match._

            When she walked into the room, the two of them were not acting as expected.  Neither was speaking, neither argued, there was no yelling, if anything, Jakal― who had transformed at some point― was doting on the little charioteer, holding onto her as she eased off the table, keeping a firm hand around her waist, scooping her into his arms when her legs sagged beneath her, refusing to hold.  From the pinkish colour on her cheeks, it was fairly clear she found this pleasantly embarrassing and very confusing if the rather helpless look she focused on Dr. French was any indication, and she could only arch an eyebrow in response.  After all it wasn't as if _she_ could do anything to him or fathom why he was suddenly acting so chivalrous towards her.  

            In the young charioteer's mind, he wouldn't think of even giving the time of day let alone carry her when she was too weak to walk.

            Jakal spared her a dissenting glance as he strode past her and headed for the door to go back out to the torrential storm with a still-puzzled driver in his arms who waved at her slightly when the hunter leapt up into the air.

End.

Sorry it took so long to do this, I've been rather busy with school and the other stories and this one simply didn't seem to be that popular.  

Please review; I'm begging you.  Let me know what you think.


	4. Thunder

Dreams & Nightmares

Chapter 4: Thunder

Rating: R for adult content

Disclaimer: I own nothing whatsoever

His silence during the voyage home unnerved her.He was angry with her, she just knew it but was unsure why.What exactly had she done this time?…Oh gods, did he know?Did Dr. French tell him?

Lightning slammed across the dark sky with a deafening crack of thunder that caused the hairs on her arms to rise in gooseflesh.At their present closeness to the center of the storm, the smell of brunt atmosphere was strong, the flashes of light blinding and terrifying, the thunder deafening in its intensity, causing her to unconsciously huddle closer to him and tighten her arms around his neck.

She shouldn't be so frightened.Not of the storm anyway, there were other things out there to be afraid of and this downpour was not one of them.

Another blast of thunder and lightening crashed in the clouds and she realized that she was scared to death of this storm.But she still should not be so afraid, not when Jakal was with her, holding her safe in his arms.She should be enjoying this.How often would she get to be in Jakal's arms, to feel his strong heartbeat near her ear, to be a thousand feet in the air where it was only the two of them but she was too frightened of everything that had happened tonight and of the storm to glean any enjoyment from this.

All she could do was huddle closer to him, wanting to close her eyes against the lightening and memories but not wanting to appear cowardly to her leader.She was already considered a liar, worthless, lazy, and a general bother to have around; she really did not want cowardice added to the list.

When another crackle of lightning exploded above them, much too close for her liking― she still refused to close her eyes no matter how much she wanted to.Instead she widened her eyes and just stared straight ahead.

"…Nefertina."

She blinked and looked at him guiltily, from his tone of voice he had asked her a question or made some comment and never received any answering response.Had she irritated him again?

"I'm sorry," she began shamefully, "I didn't hear you…"

"I asked if you wanted me to fly closer to the ground."

It was _all_ she wanted right now but she didn't want to be a coward in his eyes as well and that won out over her fear for the split instant she spoke, "No, don't trouble yourself with me.It's alright…" But even as she said the words, she wished she could retract them as thunder sounded like it would rend the very sky asunder over their heads.She could feel Jakal's steely-blue gaze boring into the top of her head when she unconsciously tightened her already white-knuckled grip on his chest armour.All she wanted was to be home and locked in her sarcophagus so no one would have to look at her.

"Are you alright?"

The question surprised her.His tone surprised her even more.It was crazy, impossible, Jakal never sounded like that to her.He didn't sound angry or annoyed.He sounded… concerned?She must be imagining things, Jakal didn't _care_ about her, for him she was little more than an inconvenience, something to be tolerated and never trusted.Why should he feel any different?No one else ever did, the hunter shouldn't be any different.

"Nefertina?Are you in pain?"He still sounded worried.What was wrong with him?He grunted slightly when she gave no answer."I'm landing."

The utterance drew her immediate protest, "No, no, there's no need.I'm fine.Really.You don't have to do anything…" _I just want to go home.I can live with the pain just… just… leave me alone… don't leave me… please._

She could still feel his gaze boring into her and she felt the sudden, surprising urge to wail as hot tears gathered in her eyes, burning her throat and making the muscles in her chest to tighten and ache.What had she done!?Why was he angry with her?She didn't mean to cause him so much trouble.She never wanted to inconvenience anyone.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely, "I'm so sorry."_Please, don't be angry._

Feeling his arms tighten around her, she was certain his anger and irritation had just reached its crest and she braced herself for whatever may come, fairly positive he would never physically hurt her.Fairly.

Deep down she knew he would never hurt her but tonight, with her fear and pain cascading through her mind and body, she was no longer sure.In her mind, he was furious with her and that was all she recognized.She caused him nothing but headaches, and tonight had been worse than ever.He had actually felt the need to go out and get her.

_He hates me.He has to.I'm so sorry, Jakal, I never wanted to be such a disappointment.Forgive me…_

End chapter 4.

Just a little self-loathing by Nefertina, next up, we hear Jakal's thoughts.Later.


	5. Lightning

Dreams & Nightmares

Chapter 5: Lightning

Rating: R

Disclaimer: If I owned the series, we'd get a hundred more episodes of it.

            Jakal stared at the shuddering girl in his arms, at her tightly clenched jaw, the taut line of her lips over her teeth, her eyes that were now squeezed shut, and the white-knuckled grip she had on his chest armour and yearned to ask what it was that had happened on that bluff to cause her to react like this, if there was anything he could do to help her through this.  Something atrocious had happened to her tonight to turn the little firecracker he knew into this hollow, terrified shell of herself.

            Was she even aware that she had spoken aloud just now?

            _Please don't be angry._  The ragged despair in her voice and the paniced terror shuddering on her breath ripped at him as no other sound ever had.  He did not understand why it was she believed him angered, she had done nothing and even he was angry, he was not in the habit of taking it out on her.  He never had been.

            _He hates me…_  She surely did not realize she said those words aloud.  He could never hate her.  Where had she gotten such an idea?  How could she believe it?

            _I never meant to be such a disappointment._

            "You're not, Nef… you're not.  You couldn't be…" He whispered urgently in her ear whilst descending steadily groundwards where he apparently startled her upon landing gently for her pale eyes opened suddenly and quite widely.  She was terrified.

            "Why did you land?" Her voice was hoarse and cracking when she spoke.  What caused it to be so, he knew not but he was determined to find out.  She needed help, and it was obvious.

            He had alighted on an empty street in front of a building that appeared to be abandoned.  Good, it would get them out of the rain and wind.

            "To give you some time to rest before we make it back to the Sphinx… and because we need to talk," he never set her down, even when he was forced to kick the boarded up door open, until he had found a box that he gently sat her on.  This place held no salvageable furniture.  "Are you alright?"

            She said nothing, continuing to stare at him with such large eyes that he was reminded of some frightened, wounded animal and he had already decided that those were not expressions he liked seeing on her.  Laughter and smiles were far more fitting to her pretty face than those. 

            When still she made no sound― had in fact dropped her gaze to stare at the ground with a bowed head― he gently cupped her jaw and forced her to look at him.  It was not until he touched her face, felt the shaking of that slender jaw, and took a good look into her eyes, he realized she was fighting not to cry.  Chewing on her lower lip, to still its trembling he was sure, her silver-grey eyes catching what little light there was and transforming them into twin, watery pools.

            She did not want to meet his gaze.  Why?  Was she truly that ashamed to have anyone see her cry?  Did she really think it a sign of weakness?

            "Why are you doing this?"  Her voice wavered but slightly that first question.  "Couldn't you al least wait until we got home to yell at me?  I'm already sorry for everything.  Please, I'd rather deal with both yours and Rath's insults and curses at the same time than separately…" Her hoarse pleas trailed off as her voice cracked and faltered.

            He stared at her as silently as she had done him earlier.  Did she truly believe he had only stopped to chastise her?  "Have I done anything to make you think I would do that to you?"

            "You're angry," Nefertina said it in a small voice that was so unlike her he winced.  He was aware of his own temper but was she really so frightened of him for it?

            "Not at you.  I won't yell and I promise I'm not angry with you.  I just want to know what's wrong.  What happened to you tonight?"  She looked up at him for an instant and in that instant he saw more terror, panic, and agony than he thought her capable of, than he thought anyone capable of.  When she ducked her to hide from his gaze, he captured her face between his hands and once more forced her to look at him.  "Please, Nef, tell me.  Tell me what happened. Tell me what I can do… _Please_."

            Very suddenly, Nefertina apparently stopped battling the tears and the pain and began to cry, sobbing harshly.  He covered his surprise as best he could and pulled her shaking form into his arms, cradling her against his chest and letting her cry as much as she needed.  It was frightening to see her cry.  

            She was so small, he realized unexpectedly as she huddled against him.  Jakal had never thought to notice this before because she had always been so strong and he had never had her clinging to him like he was the last solid thing in existence.  As the sobs came less violently though no less often, she continued to remain in his arms.

            Haltingly at first, becoming more broken with sobs as she went on, Nefertina softly told him what had happened tonight.  Some parts were lost to him by her words becoming garbled with sobs and whimpering.  

            By the time she finished, he was gripping her more tightly, his lips drawn to a thin line that whitened from the angry pressure he was forcing on them.  Never would this have entered his mind.  By the wings of Isis, he would never have thought this could have ever happened.  Of all the horrors she could have faced― this should not have happened.

            Scarab would pay for this.

            "I'm sorry," Nefertina choked out quietly, "I'm so sorry.  This is all my fault.  It's always my fault…  He's stronger because of me; the prince is in more danger than ever because of me.  Oh, gods, Jakal, I'm sorry…  What have I done!?"  She began sobbing harder than ever, great, racking, heaving, hiccupping sobs that shook her small frame and caused him to lay his fury aside for the moment and try to comfort her.  She needed someone now, someone who _could_ comfort her, not someone who was ready to go on a rampage.  

            She believes this to be her fault.  She believes he is angry with her.  She believes he hates her.  None of these things could be farther from the truth.

            "You've done nothing, none of this is your fault, Nef," he whispered fiercely while gently rubbing her back, hoping to calm and ease her fears but knowing a horror like this would need far more.  "It's not… this is Scarab's doing and I promise you he'll pay for― Nefertina?"

            Her shaking had ceased, as had her sobs, but he had been so deep in his thoughts that he had missed it.  Listening to her, slow, even breathing and rhythmic heartbeat and feeling how relaxed her body now was, he realized she had cried herself to sleep.  It was the slumber of the exhausted, of one who had no strength left.

            Lightning crackled outside, lighting the room for a split instant before plunging it back into darkness, thunder rolled overhead, and rain pounded the streets.

            He didn't want to take her back out in this weather, not while she was sleeping.  In hindsight, he should not have taken her out to begin with in her current condition.  They should have stayed with Dr. French until the storm passed but his pride had been too injured to see that Nefertina had not needed to go out into this downpour.  He was so stupid!

            The girl shivered suddenly and tried to snuggle closer to him.  Jakal looked down at her in the darkness and recalled the cold metal of his armour to pull her closer and share his warmth, settling into a sitting position on the floor with her in his arms to wait out the night.

End chapter 5.

Sorry for the delay, school, work and everything else in life has been taking over and I've not been able to get anything much done.  Hope you like this and yes, I'm working on 'Old Gods,' I'm just stuck.


	6. Dawn

Dreams & Nightmares

Chapter 6: Dawn

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  I still do not own Mummies Alive!  The mummies themselves must be quite celebratory on this count.

I'm so sorry this took so long to appear.  Things went odd in real life and I just couldn't find the time or the desire to transfer this from paper to screen.  I hope you all are not too upset with me and I hope this meets with whatever your expectations were.

            Reluctantly hovering on the verge of wakefulness, Nefertina did not want to leave this cocoon of warmth and safety, certain there was something dark and terrible in the waking world that would crash around her like a river that had burst its dam.  In sleep there was forgetfulness and the void of safe ignorance but the nightmarish memories of the night were waking up and, try as she might to return to sleep and ignore them, they forced her into an unwanted waking.

            But waking could be a fuzzy affair for the exhausted of body and soul, as the charioteer found when the memories that drove her to it faded with the realization that her warm and safe cocoon was alive, breathing deeply, and had its chin resting upon the top of her head.  Who…?

            Opening her grey eyes brought the broad plane of a man's powerful chest into slow focus.  It was puzzling to her mind, who would be holding her against him?  Who would want to? 

            It was then she spotted the amulet, the _falcon_ amulet, and picked it up gingerly― pushing away with little success the horrible memory of when Scarab had done the same to hers― and stared at it uncomprehendingly for several seconds until she felt him move and shift in his sitting position.

            "Is my amulet so riveting then?"  There was soft amusement in his gentle voice; it was there in the slight chuckle and in ever word.  And when she raised her head to look at his face in the dawn light, it was there as well, shining brightly in his beautiful blue eyes.

            Bastet help her, she fell in love with him all over again.

            The next instant, however, found him in all seriousness and concern, the amusement gone like it had never been as he looked at her.  She suddenly felt very small and weak under his sharp gaze and cradled in his arms like a helpless babe.  Perhaps she was helpless and weak, last night had been a proving point on that, one in which she could not ignore, could not forget.  Gods how she wanted to forget…

            She closed her eyes tightly against the wave of nausea, shame, and the sheer, overwhelming panic that suddenly threatened to engulf her in its blinding glare of agony.  Scarab… he― he used her.  He _raped_ her.  Rejuvenating himself, sucking her amulet's energies and leaving her half-dead, his powers were tenfold now… and it was all her fault.  If not for her, he would not have been able to get so powerful or become younger. 

            And Jakal knew, she had told him everything in a flood of tears.  Oh gods, he knew.  _He knew. _

            What would he do to her?  This was practically a betrayal to the team; she was a traitor, if an unwilling one, to have let this happen at all. 

            Feeling a hand on her cheek, urging her face up but being to weak to truly fight it, she resigned herself to the shame of letting him see more tears in her eyes.  "Nefertina?" He was staring at her in rapt concern; his cerulean gaze boring into her own storm clouded ones, "Are you alright?  Are you… still in pain?"  She couldn't miss the swallow of― was that fear or disgust? ― that moved his Adam's apple jerkily up and down.

            This was all her fault.  Everything was her fault.  _What have I done?_  "Dear gods, what have I done?"  She nearly wailed and tried, failing miserably at even this task, to stem the gush of new tears already coursing down her face.  He had seen her cry far too often of late that surely he must think her a useless excuse for a guardian… but he had been so kind to her, showing none of the disdain she was expecting and should have received.  Was he so good of an actor that he could hide his disgust in her?

            Unexpectedly, Jakal pulled her back into the warm safety of his arms and began to try and comfort her he had before, gently cradling her against his chest and murmuring softly into her hair, "You've done nothing, Nefertina.  It is not your fault.  None of this is your fault.  What Scarab did to you… it- it was the most craven, despicable… it was the _foulest_ act that son of a bitch could have done and he will pay for it."  He was angry, she could feel it in the trembling of his limbs, the tightness with which he held her and she could hear in the low growl of his voice.

            Nefertina wanted to believe him with every fibre of her being and nearly found herself doing so but for a stray thought now running through her mind and giving her no peace… Scarab had chosen her for a reason. He must have.

            "Yes it is.  It has to be my fault. It has to be.  Why else would he have― I- He― Gods, why did he do this!?"

            Jakal pulled her closer, whispering something in her ear that she could not understand as she broke into bitterly painful tears and clung to him much as she had last night.  He had no idea how much he meant to her, how much he was there for her when she really needed him.  He was a pillar of strength to her that she had always found herself lacking whether he knew this or not.  As he held her closer than she had ever been held before and gently rubbed his hand along her back in small circles, it was truer than ever before.

            But she still hurt, aching in places she before had barely known existed.  At the moment all she wanted was to stay in the safety of Jakal's arms until she could feel relatively normal once more.  If such a thing was possible after such a horrible experience, right now it seemed a dubious happening.

            Would she ever feel remotely like her old self?  _It certainly doesn't feel like it now,_ she thought to herself in angry despair.

            All she was certain of feeling as she sobbed onto his chest was that she felt vaguely ill, and rather wanted to go home to shut herself away in her sarcophagus for an indefinite period of time.  Outside of that, the only safe haven she could think of was holding her already.

            His arms were truly the only asylum she wanted right now, the only one she could imagine in the pain and misery that swamped her higher brain functions into a fuzzy, foggy shell. It shamed her how she was acting before him, shamed her more so for her near complete inability to control the emotions she had once been so successful at hiding.  How weak he must think her, how useless.  How right he was.

            Despite her whirling thoughts, Jakal continued whispering softly in her ear, "It will be alright, Nefertina, I swear it.  Nothing was your fault.  There was nothing any of us could have done but he will pay for it.  Scarab will pay for what he did, I promise you.  When I get my hands on him, I'll kill him."


	7. Found

Dreams & Nightmares

Chapter 7: Found

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The characters are very happy to not be in my possession

"Jakal? Nefertina?" A familiarly reedy, accented voice called from just outside the decaying building where the two in question had sought shelter from the night storm. When next the voice spoke, it was at the left open door, "Are you in here?"

Through the water-pale light that filtered into the dusty, grimy room Rath's willow-thin silhouette appeared as a dark shape for an instant before the scribe stepped in, his head swivelling around as he looked about the room. He moved farther inside, still searching for them.

Wiping at the tears that now refused to stop, Nefertina squeezed her puffy eyes shut and groaned at the unfairness of fate. Why did Rath have to come? Rath disliked her, had stated as much previously, and she did not want him to see her at the moment. She knew how he would react, how he always reacted towards her these past years. He thought of her as a child, and had never fully forgiven her for hiding her true self in Egypt all those centuries ago, for lying to them. And right now, with her emotions so raw and her battered body still hurting, she knew she would never be able to deal with his sarcastic comments and occasional cruelty.

A startled gasp escaped her when Jakal abruptly stood, seeming to have no difficulty doing so while lifting her at the same time. He stood for a moment, looking down at her, before calling out to their comrade and walking forward.

"C-could you set me down? Please?" She spoke up quickly, ashamed at the hoarse croak her voice had become. "I don't want Rath to see me like this."

He hesitated for a moment, gazing down at her with an unreadable expression. "Can you stand?"

She nodded and was grateful when he did as asked, setting her slowly on her feet and easing his grip. Weaker than she thought she was, her shaking legs buckled and nearly sent her to the ground but she found herself instead borne back into Jakal's strong arms. New shame burned her face at this weakness. She must look like a helpless child, it mattered little how safe it made her feel.

Rath had heard them and was rapidly making his way to their location, a look of relieved annoyance on his countenance that she would normally find amusing and would have already made a comment on it. Today, Jakal noticed as he looked down at her, she tensed at the scribe's approach. She was… frightened of him?

As he moved forward, he leaned down to whisper what he hoped was a reassurance, "He won't do anything, I promise."

She looked up at him, the familiar light of argument shining in her bloodshot eyes. He was certain she would have said something but Rath reached them then, silencing her and causing her to drop her gaze. Knowing she would say little more, he faced the inquisitively staring wizard, finding they were under his rather intense scrutiny.

One thin eyebrow cocked upward. "Well, this should be interesting to hear… Armon and I have been worried sick, where―"

"Not now, Rath," Jakal warned. "Did you bring the Hot Ra?"

Mouth closing with a click, the thin scribe surprised them both by mutely nodding and stepping aside, trailing behind with a deeply thoughtful expression. Ptah's warrior was difficult to dissuade when his curiosity became piqued, and now it fair blazed in his narrowed green eyes, the hunter only hoped he did not overstep his bounds in the questions sure to come.

Stepping out into the wane early morning light barely filtering through the thick clouds, he could smell the strong scent of coming rain. Far away, heavy rumbles still groaned through the dense air partnered with needle-like flecks of electricity that clawed across the dark sky. The storm was still settled over the city, looked to have made itself at home with little hint of leaving.

Up the debris-littered street, glistening like a gem in the dim light of dawn, sat their vehicle. As Jakal hurried towards it in the light drizzle, Rath muttered about finding Armon and nearly ran off in the other direction. He passed them another quizzical look before disappearing around a corner.

Retracting the clear top of the Hot Ra, Jakal set his charge in the back seat and climbed in next to her, shutting the roof against the chill, strengthening rain. The new tension in the air of the enclosed space could be felt so strongly it seemed to be solid and visceral.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly after a short silence. She had kept her face hidden when Rath was before them, seemed as though she wished to do the same with him. A gentle brush of his fingers was enough to bring her bowed head up to look at him. It unnerved him, the fear he still saw deep in her eyes

She opened her mouth as if to answer, closed it and swallowed thickly, finally turning away from him once more. Great hesitancy had descended within her to speak or even want to look at someone, a frightening change he had noticed in the night. Some part of him hoped that, by some miracle, she would be well again; it now seemed a ridiculous hope. This change was unsettling in someone as vibrant as the charioteer. Was it really only yesterday? Gods, it seemed centuries that he saw her smile…

_I'll tear Scarab apart for this,_ he thought darkly. _Mother of Horus, what sick depravity caused that madman to decide upon this course of action? _

He became aware of the sea-salt trace of tears then, and realized Nefertina had begun to cry. So softly it would have escaped most other's notice. Yet he could hear the quiet weeping, even the quick rhythm of her heartbeat. It tore at his heart, ripped his soul, making him flounder for some way to comfort her.

Scooting closer to her on the bench-like rear seat, he reached for her with the intention and thought of pulling her into an embrace. Her voice stopped him mid-movement.

"I hate this," she brokenly uttered in disgust, "I hate being so weak…"

His eyes widened slightly at the pronouncement. "You are not weak, Nefertina." Enough conviction was in his voice to make her look at him. "You have never been weak, you're the strongest person I know."

She sniffed and wiped at the tears coursing down her face with the palm of one bandaged hand. "I don't feel very strong," she murmured.

"Then let me be your strength," he said as he pulled her to him. The hunter embraced her tightly.

End chapter 7

I can't believe I was so lax as to let this fiction go for so long. Can you ever forgive me? I was stymied until just recently about what to do with this story (a big thank you to Julie for getting my lazy butt in gear again) but the worst of that is hopefully over.

Many thanks also to anyone who has reviewed before and to anyone who will still read this.


	8. Home

Dreams & Nightmares 

Chapter 8

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters seen in this story and can hear their relief from here.

It was a silent, subdued party that returned to the Sphinx. Almost an hour had passed since tracking Jakal and Nefertina and finding them. Armon had looked back at them after entering the Hot Ra for the long journey home, surprised to see the normally extroverted girl clinging hollow-eyed to their leader. Neither of the pair spoke a word to their comrades, for now neither of their comrades questioned them.

But still the enigma remained… what could have happened to make their little charioteer so despondent and withdrawn?

Had someone hurt her?

"Hey, what's―" The hulking warrior began to ask before being pulled back into his seat by the driving Rath.

"Be quiet, face front, and don't ask _anything_," the wizard ordered moodily.

His relief at finding them effectively quashed, Armon settled worriedly down for the trip, stealing glances back at the quiet forms of his friends. Rath sent him several warning looks, he answered with a glare of his own.

Something had happened, of that there was no doubt. By the appearance of things, with tears continuously coursing down her ashen face, he could surmise that whatever happened to her was horrible. But what? There were no physical signs, none he could see. No bruises marred her flesh, no cuts, only those unsettling tears. The young woman was the sister he never had, if someone truly hurt her, they would answer to him.

Glancing back once more, seeing the way Jakal held her and whispered softly, he realized he would have to wait in line.

Back inside the Sphinx, away from his and Rath's ears, the two shared brief conversation. Or perhaps an argument for there was much vigorous head shaking on Nefertina's part as a haunted look came into her tearing grey eyes. It was a troubling expression to witness.

Jakal nodded after a pause and turned to escort the unsteady young guardian to her sarcophagus. At a distance, he and the wizard followed behind, journeying only so far as the sitting room.

He watched the two share a few more words before Nefertina shut herself into her coffin-bed. His leader walked back to them, the normal clip to his step gone as he trudged and finally sank onto the stone sofa.

"What happened to her?" Rath asked gently before Armon could get his own question out. As it was, he could only nod in agreement.

"It is not my place to say," their leader answered tiredly. "When she decides to tell you, she will."

Jakal looked at his friends, anxiety clearly showing on their faces and in the way they stood. They would want more answers than he could give them, having promised Nefertina he would say nothing without her permission.

"Why did you not return here last night, then?"

Ah, that was a response he could give. "The storm became too severe to travel through." He nearly sighed when he saw Armon shift his concerned gaze to the silent feline sarcophagus and look back to him with his brown eyes narrowed.

The giant was upset over her condition and probably angry, it was understandable. The warrior was quite fond of the little guardian, often looking out for her the way one would a sibling, even in Egypt. That she was obviously hurt and he had been unable to protect her must be tearing him apart, as surely as it tore at Jakal.

When they found Scarab the two of them would have to take turns killing him. Just thinking of the foul conjurer made him ball his hands into tight fists and growl. There would be a reckoning soon, and then Scarab would never be a threat to anyone ever again…

"Who did this to her? And where can I find them?" The question came out a low rumbling growl, the largest guardian clenching and unclenching his powerful fist. With his teeth bared and brow furrowed in rage, Armon was a frightening sight to behold.

Still, Jakal found himself hesitating. What could he disclose? Surely, she would want them to know Scarab was the cause of her pain, and that would not require telling what had happened… He gave his word, his oath; no mention of what happened would pass his lips unless she allowed it. What was he to do? They would need to know if the sorcerer attacked in this new form.

"I don't know where he slinked off to, but… it was Scarab," he stood from the sofa, desiring to recharge his energies in case the monster decided to test his ill-gotten new powers. "That is all I will tell you without her consent."

He slipped into his sarcophagus amidst Armon swearing revenge, closing the lid just as Rath told the furious giant to wait in line.

Emotionally drained, he realized he was quite a bit more tired than he expected. Yet sleep proved elusive, his mind refusing to quiet, his anger refusing to abate. He was tense, his fists clenching and unclenching in agitation much the same way Armon's had earlier, as he went through once more all that Nefertina had told him. Scarab would pay for what he did.

When he got his hands on the beastly man, his newfound youth would offer no advantage, his magics no protection. There would be blood spilled, and as all the gods as witnesses it would be Scarab's.

_I should have gone with her,_ he thought later._ I should have done more to protect her._

As he lay in his blue and gold tomb feeling its power revitalize his depleted energies, he became aware of the oddly sudden thought that he missed holding her. Crying or not, saddened or not, he had… _enjoyed_ having her in his arms, he realized now. Horus help him, she did not need to be subject to whatever fey desire he felt right now, had felt for some years. She needed his support and protection.

Why did he have to notice how nice it felt to have her in his arms, _now_, of all times? Anger at Scarab was easier to deal with, easier to solve. What was he to do with these stranger emotions?

Vague thoughts of his long-dead wife and son flitted through his churning mind, whatever reconciliation he had achieved those three years ago about what had happened to them. He still loved his son, was looking forward to seeing the type of man he grew to be when the Western Gate opened for him. Tia… he still loved her after a fashion, still held a place in his heart for her, but it had faded. Three years ago he learned she had remarried, three years ago the tomb of she and her second husband had been discovered. He was glad she had found another chance at happiness.

So where did that leave him? No family to speak of anymore, and a young woman he cared deeply for who needed him more than ever.

How would she feel about this? It was undoubtedly something she did not need to know of currently with what hell she had been put through. What declarations he had could wait.

_And why was she out there?_ A new set of thoughts intruded into his brain, as the remote cliff he found her on came back into his memory. It was a solitary, lonely place, so unlike the vivacious and gregarious charioteer he had known for so long.

He wondered what could have driven her there, and feared if perhaps it was he and the ridiculous argument of earlier. More heatedly, he wondered what more Scarab could be planning. It seemed, looking back on what he had seen amidst the driving rain, that despicable man went away unfinished. He had seen Scarab's slight figure kneeling beside her, had seen him bent suspiciously over her battered body.

Nefertina had told him that the magician had done something to her amulet and left her near dead from weakness, but she had been closer to unconsciousness than lucidity at that point and was unsure what exactly he did. She remembered his parting words though, would carry them for the rest of her life. It was those words that brought a fresh surge of anger and disquiet through his body.

He was going to come after her again.

End chapter 8

The next will be better, I promise.


	9. Scarab's plan

Dreams & Nightmares

Chapter 9

Rating: R

Disclaimer: No characters appearing herein are mine.

&&&&

Scarab appeared in his living room with nary a sound, scaring Heka so badly it sounded as though the golden cobra had swallowed her tongue. The sorcerer merely cocked a brow at her wide-eyed shock as he moved off to the bedroom for some clothes and sleep. For as much as he revelled in his new body, it was cold and he found himself oddly tired.

_Blast it all,_ he inwardly grumbled upon finding nothing that properly fit him. Had he really been so much shorter as an old man? And had he been blind as well? These clothes were absolutely horrid! _I need to go shopping,_ he realized in disgust.

A peculiar wave of weakness passed over him with enough abruptness to buckle his legs. Staggering to a nearby chair, he sat down heavily not long before he would undoubtedly have collapsed. Long moments passed before his strength returned and he could stand once more.

_What is wrong with me?_ After the amount of power he took from the girl, he should be flushed with it, nigh invincible. Nor, he realized upon careful thought, should he be as tired as he currently felt…

Was there a part of the spell unfinished? Could something have gone wrong?

Suddenly anxious, fatigue shoved to the back of his mind, Scarab sprang up from his seat and raced to his office. The ancient leaf of yellowed and brittle goatskin parchment lay where he left it; innocent seeming with it faded writing in a long forgotten symbol-script and its simple but colourful flat images.

Running his eyes over the ancient words for any step he may have missed, the wizard focused on the more garbled and timeworn passages at the bottom of the sheaf. Before, he thought it the beginnings of a different spell, now he found himself unsure and struggling to decipher the faded, cryptic language.

It was past noon before full understanding made him seethe with fury. Had the hunter not shown up, he would now be bloated with power, an indestructible force the mummies would be impotent to fight against and survive. When he gained that power, Jakal would be the first to feel it for causing its delay.

He chuckled then, a dark sound echoing in the silent room, the answer was so simple. It never ceased to amaze him how such potent sorcery could be sealed so easily…

The girl had to die.

Her death had to come before the full moon however. That gave him just less than three weeks to see it done. Finding her would be nearly impossible if she did not leave wherever it was the mummies hid from him. Six years he looked for them, six years he fought them, and still he had never discovered where they were, what place they called home. The protection and shielding spells cast by the bothersome Rath were strong, much more so than first anticipated.

_But_, he thought with a frightening death-grin as he felt the low thrum of the charioteer's energy flow through him, _I now have the means to find her, find them all. Shields or no._

Leaving the day-lightened modernity of his office as lightning arced across the threatening sky, he made his way to the centremost of his rooms. There were no window here, no electric lights; no electricity of any sort could enter this room. Only flame was used to lift the darkness, and several thick candles burned always, reflecting off the many mirrors adorning the black draped wall of the nonagon room.

In the relative darkness, he could see with distraction. Away from the constant, intrusive buzz of the modern world, he could hear and focus once more.

The centre of the room held a large, shallow bowl made of blackest obsidian atop a tall altar-like table. It was to this empty vessel he strode, reaching under the cloth-draped table for a silver flagon and a corked glass bottle.

From the flagon, he filled the bowl with water and from the bottle came three small drops of rose oil.

As he waited now for the scrying pool to settle, Scarab concentrated on the vigorous life soaring through his veins and dancing along his nerves. Yes, this was it. He and the girl were linked, that link would lead him to her, the other mummies, and the brat, but only if he could successfully focus on the energy he took from her.

Upon opening his violet eyes, he found that the liquid had stilled and already a vague half-image swirled into being. He furrowed his smooth brow and stared further into the bowl, waiting for the indistinct blur to clarify.

It came quickly, solidifying into a lion with the head of a man…

_A sphinx?_

_Surely, it isn't the one by the museum,_ he thought with a frown as the smoky little image expanded to show more. _As many times as I've been there… What a fool I've been!_

His destination known, the pool became nothing more than a bowl of lukewarm water again. He cleansed it, putting everything back the way it was and left the windowless chamber, his mind churning.

The sphinx… it seemed so obvious now. Where else could four mummies hide in this city and still be in such close proximity to magical talismans and spells? And they were always in that area, as was the boy. He was such a blind fool!

Unfortunately, he realized as a minor wave of weakness washed over him once again, in his current state it would be suicide to invade his enemies' sanctuary. He needed help. He needed an ally.

But who?

He thought of his past allies. None had a very high success rate and most now wanted his head for one reason or another. The gods were too mercurial and chaotic as a force to use with any reliability, and there was little wish in him to call on Chontra simply because she threatened to castrate him when he last saw her three years ago.

Whom could he call upon for aid? Who hated the guardians enough to agree to keep the three men distracted while he grabbed the girl, and the boy if his luck was good?

Slouching in an overstuffed, leather recliner, the young sorcerer ran his hands through his thick black hair and huffed out a sigh. What was he to do?

Heka had turned her attention from the television to him, and at his noticing her, she cocked her golden head in silent question. Her surprise of earlier was gone, she was merely curious now. Whether about his mood or what he was thinking about, he did not overly care at the moment.

"Do you know any allies who would make a suitable distraction for the mummies?" He asked on the chance she might remember someone he had not.

Her head cocked the other way as she fell into silent thought, undoubtedly going over the long list of the past just as he had earlier. She glanced back at the television for a moment as the gears of her mind turned.

Waiting for her response, he looked to the images as well out of curiosity of what she found so fascinating. It looked to be a nature programme, one on arachnids… As the little creatures fought bitterly, the perfect choice came to him. A large grin split his face.

Him.

&&&&

End chapter 9

Thank you to everyone who reads this and reviews. What do ya'll think of Scarab's spin on things? Is he suitably evil?


	10. Rath and Jakal talk

_Dreams & Nightmares_

Chapter 10

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The characters of Mummies Alive! are property of DIC Entertainment.

&&&&

Jakal emerged from his sarcophagus after only a handful of sleepless hours, as agitated as when he went in. It was still early in the day, only ten o'clock or so, and it seemed as though the storm above was still raging. The muffled boom of thunder sounded from nearby and even here, in the dusty, odour-laden central chamber of the sphinx, he could smell the cleansing freshness of new rain.

The room he stepped into from his bed was empty, cold, and somewhat darker than normal. It was a room that held every appearance of having been unoccupied for several hours.

The vague question of where Rath and Armon could be flitted through his mind for a moment before his eyes went to the feline sarcophagus standing silent and closed, its occupant either sleeping or unwilling to see anyone. He wondered if she found sleep as fleeting as he had, if she wept still. Should he knock and see to her? Would she welcome such a thing?

She told him, just before closing herself up, that she had no wish to face either of their comrades with her story. While he believed they eventually should be told, he would not force her to relive it in the telling. Moreover, he would never betray her trust by telling them himself.

"Jakal, you're awake," Rath's somewhat surprised voice came from the entryway, one of his ever-present scrolls clutched in a thin hand. He stood as a darkened shape in the doorway leading to his study, head cocked to one side in the curiosity that drove him. "I had expected you to sleep for several more hours." His voice carried well across the space that separated them though it was in a low tone as he moved into another room.

Leaving the sleeping area so as not to risk disturbing his resting friend, the hunter crossed the long chamber to the small kitchen where Rath had apparently been heading. As the scribe picked at what looked to be leftover Chinese food, he rummaged in the white-stone sarcophagus for something to eat. Jakal could feel the patient gaze of the swordsman on his back and realized he wanted to talk.

An apple was chosen for his meal, being easy to eat. It also required no preparation and would allow him to devote his full attention to whatever it was Rath wanted to discuss.

Therefore, he chose the chair across the table from his team-mate to better face him and took the opportunity to sink his teeth into the small fruit in his hand. Yet, instead of speaking, the scribe seemed intent on toying with his chopsticks. Doing so long enough to test Jakal's patience.

Rather than starting a conversation himself, he used the relative silence to focus some of his attention on the sleeping area in the next room. He listened for any signs of the stone on stone if she left her sarcophagus or the softer sounds of crying nightmares.

_Just in case she needs someone,_ he assured himself firmly. He prayed she would find the peace in slumber she so desperately needed now in the waking world. Should she not, he planned to be there to shield and protect her in whatever way he could. He would hold her until time ended if it would keep her safe.

"Is there anything else you can tell me about what happened to her?" The sudden question jerked his mind back to the scribe whom he had forgotten about. "Or even how badly she was injured?"

"I can't describe her injuries without telling what happened and I gave my word to her. All I will say is that she was hurt. Horribly." It was truth but it was vague, 'hurt' able to have many meanings. Seeing his friend's sceptical and thoughtful expression caused him to frown, "Why?"

Rath shrugged his shoulders, pushing the box of leftovers away and propping his elbows on the table. "I wondered if I could help in any way, if perhaps there was some spell or potion I could give her… And there was a somewhat bizarre call from Dr. French about an hour ago." He looked down at his hands for a moment, pulling at a loose thread on the bandage crossing his palm in a surprising show of nerves. "She's… coming for a visit this evening to check on Nefertina's healing."

Many questions burned in the green depths of his eyes when he again looked up. "She also stated she would need a ride here. The Hot-Ra is still mostly inoperable so I thought you could fetch her when you retrieved the jetcycle from wherever it was left."

Rath, in his own way, did care for the little charioteer, even if he _was_ more often than not wroth with her due to whatever mischief she was getting into. It was no surprise, then, his wish to help her in whatever way he could.

It was the second matter Jakal was having trouble believing fully. Mechanical genius that he was, it seemed improbable the wizard would be unable to repair the Hot Ra by evening when he had managed to get it running well enough to retrieve the two of them. Of course, it was also no secret he and the good doctor rarely had a completely civil exchange.

So, it was with a small grin that the hunter voiced his suspicions. "It sounds to me that _you_ simply don't want to be the one to drive Dr. French anywhere."

He was rewarded with outraged sputtering.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rath harrumphed and crossed his arms, brow furrowing over narrowed green eyes. For the first time in what felt like ages, the archer found himself laughing. It was not met with like amusement. "Jakal!"

"Fine, fine, I'll retrieve the doctor to save you the agony," Jakal said with enough mock defeat thrown into his voice to earn a dark scowl. "Where's Armon?" He asked in order to change the subject and keep the scribe from storming off in a show of pique.

With a huff and a glare, he was answered. "He went out not long ago. He didn't tell me where he was going; only that he needed some air." There was a sigh, then, through the swordsman's nose as his anger fled. "What happened to Nefertina has… upset him greatly, so much so he hasn't eaten since we found you."

That news came as a bit of a surprise. Armon had never been one to let emotions get in the way of his hearty appetite; that he did so now bespoke both his great anger at Scarab and the deep love he felt for their little charioteer. They were close, those two, closer than many siblings he could think of.

Perhaps it was not so surprising after all.

"What about you?" The hunter asked suddenly of the older man. His manner seemed colder than the situation warranted.

Somewhat taken aback by the question, Rath merely stared at him. It was some time before he was answered, the thin wizard speaking slowly, his eyes slightly narrowed as a dull rumble of thunder rolled overhead.

His words were curt, clipped, "I'm coping… a fair sight better than you or Armon, I might add." He held up a hand to silence the vehement comment that immediately sprang to Jakal's mind. "I am just as angry as you and it would give me no greater joy than to give Scarab what he deserves, but I see no reason to storm about in a rage until we find him. That would accomplish nothing save a waste of energy."

Rath often prided himself on his emotional control, though had proven on many occasions it was not as strong as he liked to believe. Still, what he said was in keeping with his character and should really have been expected on Jakal's part. It shamed him that he could so jump to conclusions.

"My apologies, Rath, you just seemed…"

"Cold? Emotionless?" The scribe supplied while waving off the apology, the ghost of a smile playing about his lips. "Nefertina is constantly saying that," fondness crept into his eyes, tempered by an angry sadness, "when she isn't being the living embodiment of vexation."

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End chapter 10

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and to everyone who has yet to do so.


	11. Chapter 11

_Dreams & Nightmares_

Chapter 11

Rating: R

Disclaimer: There is nothing here belonging to me. Except perhaps Dr. French.

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Armon returned some hours past midday, far calmer than when last he was seen, though he did not show his usual smile and seemed in no mood to talk. He merely walked past the archer with nary a glance or word and sat sullenly on the slab of cold stone that served as a sofa.

Jakal had no idea where the big warrior had been these past hours but he was certain he would receive little answer should he ask. Anger still swathed around the warrior's form like a cloak.

Much as the hunter wished otherwise, he could not stay to talk to the understandably upset man. It was getting late and he needed to retrieve both the jetcycle and Dr. French. There was little desire in him to perform either task when he simply wanted to remain here in case Nefertina woke and needed someone.

He wanted to protect her, protect her as he had been unable last night. That task would be impossible if he left.

Yet he must bring the doctor, for she was likely the only one whom the charioteer would allow to examine and heal her.

"Armon," he began, setting himself to the undertaking, "I must bring the jetcycle back… it shouldn't take more than an hour and Dr. French will be with me." He looked to the red and gold coffin, something he was afraid to identify settling in his mind. "If she wakes before I'm back… keep her safe?"

"You know you don't have to ask," the large man stated quietly.

&

The red motorcycle was unmoved from the place it was left last night, still sitting atop the lonely ocean-side cliff. He was glad for it, the thought having gone through his mind some hours earlier that it could have easily been stolen or blown over and off the cliff-side by the wind that even now still howled.

He wiped the rain from the seat as best he could with already sodden bandages and hoped the engine was not flooded. If it was, cranking the machine would be futile and he would be forced to leave it here once again as it was far too heavy for him to fly with anywhere. It would also mean flying Dr. French to the sphinx and the old woman hated heights.

A sigh of relief was breathed when the jetcycle started up easily. Driving off, he realized the cold rain that had been falling incessantly since morning was slackening to a mild drizzle.

Though he could still smell fresh rain, the worst of it was out to sea and moving inland only slowly. With any luck, he and the doctor would be safely at the sphinx before it came.

It had occurred to him while flying that the old doctor may not appreciate being picked up on the back of a motorcycle in the pouring rain. The last time something similar happened, Rath's hat ended up crushed onto his head from the wallop he received with that huge purse she carried.

The memory of it still brought a smile to his face even so many months later. He wondered if she perhaps hit him with the bag for expecting her to ride what she dubbed an 'infernal contraption.'

_At least it stopped raining_, he thought.

As it turned out, she did not hit him. She did however- upon opening her front door dressed in a dark brown overcoat and plastic rain hood- ask if he was joking.

"It's pouring with rain," she groused even while handing over a heavy black doctor's bag in order to close and lock the door, "and that thing is dangerous enough without adding wet streets to the mix." He hid his smile, trailing behind her grumbling figure as she strode for the glistening motorcycle.

By the time they reached the sphinx, a chill drizzle was once more falling and Jakal felt fairly certain his ribs were bruised. It would seem that Dr. French hated the jetcycle as much as she did flying, and for an old woman she proved to possess a vice-like grip.

It did not help matters that the handle of her bag was digging uncomfortably into his lower back. For a time, it felt a never-ending journey until the dark form of his home rose up against the gathering twilight. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight.

Quiet settled over the chambers the two of them walked through, the only sound he was aware of besides their own feet and breathing, were difficult to place. He could identify the sounds of Rath and Nefertina's voices, but not what they were saying. Armon's deep rumble entered in only rarely.

_She's awake_, he though, equal parts happiness and anxiety warring for dominance in his mind and heart. While it pleased him mightily that she was out of bed, he had no way of knowing what state she was in.

Was she all right? Had she left her bed of her own volition or did nightmare's cruel fingers drive her from it?

It took all his willpower not to leave the slow moving doctor and rush ahead into the sitting room. His desire to see her was strong and while the strength of that desire was surprising, he no longer shunned it as he might have once. Nevertheless, he was not about to rush into it either, not until Nefertina was healed and he had some idea where she stood on the matter.

All thoughts fled from him, however, when he and Dr. French rounded the last corner that would take them into the sphinx's main room.

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End chapter 11

Great big thanks to all who read and review.


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